Unspoken Secrets
by NCCJFAN
Summary: What if there were more to Jordan's committment issues than Woody knows about? Would he be able to accept how issues of the past that he doesn't know about makes her the woman that she is today?
1. Snow

**Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan or any part of its production. It all belongs to Tim Kring, et. al. I do this just for fun and no profit is made. Believe me.**

**There's no doubt that Jordan has changed and matured through the years. What we've seen on the episodes may have only scratched her psychological surface. What if there was more to her reactions and relationship-phobia than we know? Her mother's death happened while she was still very young. Surely by the time she was 34, she at least had some ability to put it in perspective. What if there was another event…an event that only select people knew about…that spurred her reactions and phobias?**

**Just to make you think….**

**Spoilers:The Gift of Life**

** Jump, Push, Fall**

** Road Kill**

**

* * *

****Chapter One**

**Snow**

_It's snowing again_, Jordan thought to herself as she stared out of her office window at the morgue. _Snowing and snowing and snowing…will it ever stop? It's so damn cold…_ she shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms to ward off the chill. Still it was January in Boston…and snow was to be expected. As well as the cold.

And the cold seemed to be everywhere…not just outside. Her relationship with JD was over. After she discovered that the tabloid reporter had planted a tracer in her cell phone to not only track her calls, but her location, she had unceremoniously kicked him to the curb, as she had done with every other man in her life that violated her trust. What little warmth and affection the rebound-from-Woody relationship had offered her was now history. Her heart, as well as her bed, was now ice cold.

Her relationship with the detective could be called chilly at best, too. She had been reeling from Woody's rejection when she found herself nearly pushed into JD's arms just to get a little comfort. Still, despite everything…despite the fact that her heart and her body still found themselves responding to the mere sound of Woody's voice … she had maintained her respect of Woody's wishes…that she leave him alone and stay out of his life.

Sometimes those boundaries would blur…and she would struggle. If they worked late together and he walked her out to her car…a laugh over a shared joke…a victory in a difficult case…they could look at each other and the hopes and dreams of a thousand "if onlys" would rear their heads to haunt both of them. She would find him looking at her with something akin to fondness in his eyes…her heart would soar…only to crash and burn moments later when Woody reverted to his cold attitude with her. _It's really better this way_, she thought to herself, allowing her fingers to lightly trace the paths of the snowflakes on her window. _It's probably all for the best…that part of my life is over…and I just need to keep moving on…_

* * *

Across the street at the nineteenth precinct, Woody was also staring out of his window…wondering just how much the snow was going to snarl traffic on his way home. _I hope not much…I want to get home and catch the game on TV_, he thought, turning his attention away from the stack of folders on his desk. He currently had six open homicides, a robbery, a carjacking, and an assault case vying for his attention…which was sorely lacking these days.

He kept telling himself it was because he was overworked and still healing from his injuries. That the wounds he suffered from took more out of him than he realized…but deep inside, he knew that wasn't the case. Deep inside, he knew that his lack of attention, as well as his lack of personal relationships, was due to him severing his bond with her. Jordan had been his reason for living, staying in Boston, remaining a homicide detective for so long, that now he wasn't sure how to function without her. His emotions had wavered from being depressed, to sad….to what they were right now…anger, tempered with need to remain cold and aloof to the woman he had once wanted to warm his bed.

At least that's what his head kept telling him…his heart was a different story. It broke a little more each time he saw her and the look of hurt that would sometimes flash in her eyes at him when she thought he wasn't watching her.

But somehow, he was always looking at her. He'd catch himself, and promptly glance away, telling his heart that she no longer mattered…but she did. And his heart knew it better than his head. He worried about her…how much time she was spending by alone, retreating behind the walls she had so carefully crafted for herself to avoid being hurt. Walls that he had spend years trying to tear down, only to find she rebuilt them nearly the moment he had kicked her out of his hospital room. Jordan stayed close to her morgue family, but since she had dismissed JD from her life, she had little outside contact.

JD. Now there was an anomaly if ever there was one. Woody smiled grimly to himself. An Aussie in a Yankee world. The detective had been surprised when Pollack asked his permission to pursue Jordan.

Woody had been just as surprised to hear himself say, "Knock yourself out."

He was even more surprised when Jordan had said yes to Pollack.

And he had been completely delighted when she had given the reporter his walking papers after discovering that JD had put a tracer on her cell phone. As a matter of fact, Woody knew who had given Jordan the information. He did. He had gotten suspicious of Pollack showing up everywhere Jordan was at working on a case. Woody had made a few phone calls, a few discreet inquirie,s and got the information on the tap. He had squirreled the papers away away, taking them to the morgue after nearly everyone had left, and put the forms on her desk to find the next morning.

By noon the following day, Woody had the satisfaction of finding out that all hell had broken loose between the couple and Jordan had kicked JD to the curb. Woody's smile widened. Served the man right….

Served Jordan right, too.

Woody had told himself that it was all over between them and that he was better off now. He could now pursue a real relationship with a woman without being hindered by her…but somehow that didn't happen. He had dated scores of women since he had regained use of his legs….slept with several of them…but somehow he couldn't get her out of his head or his heart. So he resorted to the next best thing.

He wanted to hurt her. Hurt her as much as she had hurt him.

Getting rid of JD the way that he did was one of the ways. The other way was to treat her with such a cold aloofness that he saw her heart break a little every time they worked together. Part of him took sadistic joy at seeing her wince inwardly at his tone of voice.

Another part of him….the part he did his best to ignore … wanted just to hold her.

_No wonder I can't pay attention to my cases_, he sighed, turning away from his window and back to the files on his desk. _Even now, she still is in nearly all my thoughts…_

"Hoyt!" came a stern voice from the doorway.

"Yes, Captain?"

"I need you to take a call at Thirty-Fourth and Bessemer – the Green Hotel…"

Woody was acquainted with that part of town…drug trafficking, prostitution….not even remotely the best section of even South Boston. "What do we have?" he asked, getting up from his desk and grabbing his jacket.

"Dead baby in room 302."


	2. The Green Hotel

**Chapter Two**

**The Green Hotel**

There was only one black and white unit at the seedy Green Hotel when Woody pulled up in front of the building. _Pitiful little for someone still so innocent_, he thought as he climbed out of his cars, mounted the steps, flashed his badge at the clerk, and followed the old man's pointing finger up to room 302. "What do we have?" he quietly asked one of the uniformed officers who was standing in the tiny room, as far away from the makeshift crib as he could get.

"Dead infant…not sure how old….no ID anywhere to be found."

"What was the name of the person who registered for the room downstairs?

"A Miss Jane Smith…" the young rookie rolled his eyes.

Woody knew what the man meant. A Jane Smith was as good as a Jane Doe anytime. "Has the ME's office been called?"

"Yeah…they're on their way."

Woody took a deep breath and walked over to the tiny, portable crib that had been set up in the corner of the room. There, looking like it was still sleeping, was a baby…its tiny lips and nails just turning blue…the only tangible sign that an infant that should have been so full of life was so … lifeless.

Kids. God knows he loved them. Wanted a few of his own one day. Hopefully before too long. Any case that involved children, babies, toddlers, teens…got next to him. Whether it was a reaction from his own neglected, cold childhood, the inheritance of an equally cold and distant father, or perhaps the fact that he had always wanted his own children, he wasn't sure. He just knew that any injustice brought to a child raised his hackles and shortened his sjprt temper even more.

But from what he could gather, this baby hadn't been abused…there were no marks on the neck that would indicate manual strangulation….or marks anywhere else that would show beatings. The baby looked like it had simply died in its sleep. He would know more as soon as…

She came into the room. Jordan was the answering ME. And it was clear that she hadn't been told it was a baby. She headed for the bed and looked puzzled when she found no body. "Over here," Woody called out to her softly, loathe to disturb the peace in the room. The baby may not have been asleep, but it did look like it was resting.

"What do we have?" Jordan asked, still keeping her eyes cast downward as she pulled a pair of latex gloves. Garret hadn't told her Woody was the answering detective. But then again, Garret may not have known…She sent up a silent prayer that she would be able to keep it altogether while working with Woody again…and that he would at least be civil.

"A baby…."

Jordan's gasp of disbelief was audible. And Woody watched her face blanche. "I know…this is hard," he told her, automatically reaching out his hand to steady her. "Deep breaths…okay? Deep breaths…."

Jordan nodded, her whole attention focused on the tiny infant in front of her. He or she….was so little….the perfect fit for a pair of arms…instead, it would be a cold bed the baby found from now on. She sucked in one of those deep breaths that Woody recommended and moved closer to the crib. "Oh God," she sighed, pulling her hair back in a sloppy pony tail.

"I know…just hang in there, Jordan. If anyone can bring this baby justice, it's you." Woody's voice held a note of conviction she hadn't heard in a long time. She shot him a brief glance, but his blue eyes were telling her nothing.

Taking another deep breath, Jordan reached into the crib and gently turned the infant over. Then she began a cursory exam. "Rigor's not set…so death was in the last 10 to 12 hours, I'd guess. There's no apparent markings that would indicate strangulation…." She gently pried the baby's mouth open. "And nothing that would indicate poison." Unfastening the tiny sleep suit and then the diaper, she continued. "And it's a female..." Woody could have sworn Jordan's face got whiter, "Roughly three months of age, I'd guess…"

Woody grimaced. "Anything else?"

"Not that I can tell you right now…Let me get her back and do an autopsy…I can't tell right now if she's s victim of perhaps shaken baby syndrome…or SIDS … or something else."

Woody nodded and took stepped away from the crib as the morgue attendants brought a tiny body bag. He swallowed hard as even the tiniest bag the morgue had engulfed the baby. "When can you let me know…" he asked Jordan, without taking his eyes off the little girl.

"I'm going back and get started now," Jordan answered, turning away from the now-empty crib, wondering how someone could abandon their child at all… even in death…of course she had seen a lot of parents abandon their kids while they were alive. She was in no position to talk.

"And you'll call me…"

"As soon as I know something…" she replied, beginning to walk out of the bleak and empty hotel room.

But her eyes told him something was quite normal…whether it was the age of the infant or working with him again, Woody wasn't sure. "You are all right with this, aren't you?" He stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Yeah…sure….I just have never…never liked cases that involved a child being hurt…or worse…"

Woody nodded. At least that was one thing they could agree on.

* * *

"Garret, can I talk to you a minute?" Jordan paused at the door of the chief ME's office.

"Sure, come on in….I know that look. What's on your mind?" Garret replied, carefully giving Jordan more than just a passing glance. The expression on her face alarmed him. Her eyes were wide, and if Garret didn't know any better, he'd swear she was scared.

"Did you know that I just got called out on one of Woody's homicides?"

"The death at Green Hotel? I knew the Boston PD had phoned in a suspicious death and requested an ME, and that you were next up. But I promise I had no idea it was Woody's call. Has he done or said something else that's upset you?" Through the office grapevine and conversations with Jordan herself, Garret had learned about Woody's actions at the hospital after the detective had been shot, and like the other morgue staff, Garret had become protective over Jordan concerning Woody. "Because if he has, I can and will remove you from his case."

Jordan shook her head. "No…Woody's not done a thing wrong this time, Gar. As a matter of fact, he was a true gentleman today. I do want to be removed from the case, but Woody has nothing to do with it."

Garret looked at her quizzically. If it wasn't Woody, then why…..

Catching his expression, Jordan knew Garret wasn't aware of the specifics of the homicide call. "The suspicious death….Garret, it was a baby… a little girl...about three months old."

He sucked in a deep breath. "No problem. I'll hand it off to Bug."

Jordan nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it." She suddenly let out a deep breath, her shoulders sagging. To Garret, she looked totally defeated and exhausted.

"You okay?" he asked, getting up from behind his desk and coming over to pull her into a tight hug.

"Yeah…I'm fine. But…I do want to be kept in the loop about the baby…I didn't see anything that would point to a murder, but…"

"Not a problem." He lightly kissed the top of her head. "Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off? Between a baby and Woody…." He felt her stiffen in his arms just a little, then sag against him again. He knew the battle was waging in her…the desire to maintain her professional veneer verses the part of her that needed to be a woman. "It's kind of slow here, anyway."

"I think I will, if you don't mind…" she pulled away to look in his eyes…just to double check the truth behind his statement. Evidently she was satisfied. "But I'll be back first thing tomorrow."

Garret smiled softly at her. "I would expect no less."

* * *

"Let it go, Hoyt," Garret's voice called out angrily across autopsy.

"I just don't understand. Why'd you pull Jordan off the Baby Doe case? She was the answering ME….this won't look good if anything has to go to trial," Woody answered, now fuming after finding out that Garret had removed Jordan as ME on his homicide case and instated Bug in her place. Not that Bug wouldn't do a good job….it's just that Jordan had been the responding ME and knew the background of the situation ….what little there was of it. And while Bug was good…well….he wasn't _Jordan._

"It was my call…she asked to be removed and I approved the transfer."

Woody ran his fingers through his hair and swore under his breath. "Son of a bitch…."

"Let it go, Hoyt." Garret warned the detective again.

"I just don't get it…Jordan seemed fine at the crime scene. If she can't handle working with me, then maybe…maybe she should transfer out to another morgue. That would save me a lot of time and headaches in the long run…."

"Dammit, Hoyt. I said let it go…and I meant it," Garret finally roared back at him. "Don't flatter yourself….you had nothing…_nothing_ to do with Jordan's request to be removed from this case. Get it? _Nothing_. Lots of female ME's have a hard time dealing with homicides that involve infants. Believe it or not, Jordan is no different. She was afraid this would bother her to the point she wouldn't be able to handle her other cases or be objective on this one. She's more sensitive than you could have ever known…and maybe a little more so now." He gave Woody a pointed look.

Woody locked eyes with Garret and for a few seconds it was as battle of wills across the room of autopsy one….Bug and Nigel watched from the sidelines with slightly open mouths, not daring to breathe as the silent war raged between the two men, both of whom deeply cared for Jordan in so many different ways. Finally, it was Woody that said "uncle." Turning to Bug, he asked, "Can you get the baby's autopsy done by tomorrow?"

"With some luck and the tox reports coming back quick…"

Woody nodded before he turned on his heel to leave. "Good. Just get the reports to me as soon as you can. I don't like these types of cases left open too long."


	3. Reasons Why

**Chapter Three**

**Reasons Why**

For three days Woody fumed about Jordan's request and Garret's giving into her wishes. Why did she ask to be removed from the Baby Doe case? Somehow he didn't think it was what Garret had said – that it was because Jordan was a woman and some women ME's have difficulties with cases involving small children. They had worked cases with young kids before…and he had seen her reaction. She had fought tooth and nail to bring those kids justice…find their killer…and in some cases, the kids themselves. Her behavior had been the same as his – outrage, concern, an overwhelming need to right the wrong. Woody knew his response had been the accumulation of a lifetime neglect from his father and then becoming an orphan. He had always assumed all of Jordan's response had been the result of being left motherless at ten.

So her present actions didn't add up to the Jordan he knew. It was off base…something was wrong…very wrong. The problem was Woody couldn't put his finger on what it was.

He thought it might be the fact of what might have been…what might have been between them. That if things had worked out between them…if he would have listened to her in the hospital…if he hadn't been such a horse's ass…their relationship would be very different by now. They would be together…perhaps married…maybe even expecting. Jordan could be carrying his child.

Instead things were so cold between them they both froze whenever they saw each other. Through his counseling sessions he had learned to be civil with her…disperse the anger that didn't belong to her…but just when he thought they were connecting again, one of them would get cold feet and back down. He reckoned it was because they both were frightened…that trying to pursue anything between them might be setting another disaster in motion again.

Maybe the baby was too sharp of a reminder. He knew it bothered him…not just because this may be a meaningless homicide enacted on a truly innocent victim…but because it also struck a chord with him. What might have been between them. What could have been the result.

Instead they were nearly strangers.

Odd that after four years of knowing her nearly every waking move and being able to read her mind, he was totally lost with her now. He had no idea why she was reacting his way.

But he needed to know. He was telling himself it was because he was a detective and she was an ME…that as along as they faced the possibility of working together, he needed to know what made her tick—what could set her off. But his heart was telling him something different – he needed to know because he still cared.

After the fourth day of still fumbling around with her reasons and his thoughts, Woody decided to make a trip to the morgue to see her…under the guise of an old case…only to find her office dark and locked, and to find her signed out on the time board. "Where's Jordan?" he asked Nigel, after going into trace to try to find her.

"Jordan? She's not here…"

Swallowing his impatience, Woody tried again. "Where is she? I need to ask her some questions about a … this cold case…there's been some new evidence that's been turned in."

Nigel looked up from his computer screen to give the detective a baleful look. If he was a betting man, he'd wager a cold case was the least of Woody's concerns. "Jordan's gone on vacation for a week."

"Vacation?" Well, that explained why he hadn't seen her…but that just made Woody's curiosity double. Jordan never took vacation.

"Yes, mate. She took off to Denver for a few days."

"Denver?" Woody's voice rose with his curiosity level. "Why Denver? Does she have family out there?"

"Not that I know of."

"Is it work related?"

"I don't think so."

Then it hit Woody. Jordan had worked in Denver for a while. He wasn't sure how long…a year? Eighteen months? It was the one place she had left on good terms with the medical examiner's office. Things had been strained between them…perhaps she had heard his dig to Garret that it might be better if she did transfer out to another office somewhere…that it would save him time and headaches in the long run.

What if she had listened to him one more time? Swallowing hard, he had to ask. "Is she interviewing for a job out there now?" he asked, nervousness tingeing the edges of his voice

Nigel's gaze turned from patience tolerance to one of disbelief. "No, mate," he replied somewhat gently…as if he had some idea of the degree of concern Woody was feeling and for once, the Brit was sympathetic. An event that didn't happen often any longer with the morgue staff since Woody had hurt Jordan so badly. "Jordan's not interviewing for any job anywhere."

"Then why…."

"I don't know. I don't know why she's out there. I just know that's where she is. And I'm not sure when she'll be back. You can ask Garret, but…"

"He probably won't tell me." Woody let out a resigned sigh.

"Your fault…if you hadn't of acted like such a bastard…."

"I know. Thanks anyway, Nigel."

"You're welcome," Nigel called after him, shaking his head at the detective.

Woody turned and went out of trace. He knew it was his fault. His actions had made the entire morgue staff…even Lily…shut him out. The empathetic answers he had gotten from Nigel were the most personal information he had gotten about Jordan in months.

8888888888888888888888888888

"So it was SIDS?" Woody asked Bug the following week. Bug had called him and told him that he had the final reports on Baby Doe's autopsy.

"Yes."

"You're completely sure?"

"I've run all the tests and then re-run them again because you told me that was what Jordan would have done. The little girl wasn't smothered…she wasn't shaken…she wasn't dropped…or anything else. It was SIDS."

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. A catch-all category to try to explain the unexplainable – why a seemingly healthy baby died. "This isn't a homicide…" Woody said softly.

"No…the baby just…died," Bug said, shaking his head, too. In some ways, working in a morgue makes you a little hardened about death…but a baby's death? Bug didn't care how long he worked at the medical examiner's office, a dead baby – no matter how it died – was always hard to deal with. He was struggling as much as Woody was.

"So all we have is a parent or parents who abandoned their dead child…"

Bug nodded. "Who probably did so either out of fear – that they would be accused of something they didn't do – or that they couldn't afford a funeral, and if the child was abandoned, the state would cover the expense."

Woody sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. A homicide, in some ways, would have made more sense. And been easier and cleaner. Now they had to comb through hospital records to see how many women had given birth to female, Caucasian babies in the last three to four months.

And if they were lucky, the mother gave birth in Boston. Reality was, she could have given birth to the little girl anywhere…not even in a hospital.

The clerk at the Green Hotel couldn't really describe the woman. He was an elderly man and didn't see well….and he had only seen the woman on a couple occasions. All they had gotten out of the clerk is that the woman was about 5'4" and had dark hair. Not a lot to go on, especially when it could fit at least one-third of Boston's female population.

But even as focused as Woody was on that, the whole case went out the window the minute he saw Jordan walk by the doors of trace, her long brown hair tumbling down her back.

She was back.

And she owed him some answers.


	4. Repentance

**Chapter Four**

**Repentance**

There was no knock. Her door simply swung open and suddenly her office was full of _him_. His masculinity. His nervous energy. His gaze…that nearly pinned her to the wall. "Good….good morning," Jordan greeted him, a note of uncertainty in her voice. Whatever was going on, she had a vague idea it wasn't going to be anything good about it the morning or perhaps even the rest of the day.

"Where have you been?" Woody asked rhetorically.

"Denver."

"Why?" He came the rest of the way in the small room, shut the door, leaned against it, and crossed his arms. He wasn't going to let her out until she had answered all of his questions to his satisfaction.

"I took vacation."

"You ran out on a case." Woody's voice rang with cold distain.

Jordan felt the hackles of her anger rise. "I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"I asked Garret to put Bug on the case….the baby just got next to me…I needed to get away."

"So you bailed." His voice wasn't the least bit forgiving or understanding.

"I did not bail, Woody Hoyt. I had the case covered before I left. You just don't like it because I didn't tell you I was leaving…"

Woody pulled away from her door and walked over to stand in front of her. "You ran. Just like you always do when things get tough and you can't handle it."

"I _did not_ run," Jordan replied, her voice rising with her hackles this time. "I took _vacation_. Something I haven't done in years and have needed for a while."

"Funny _your_ needs just got too great right now. What about Baby Doe's needs? Don't they matter? Or does the world still revolve around Jordan and the hell with everyone else?" Woody's voice got louder, too.

And his response got him a stinging slap to his face. "How dare you? How dare you say that I put my needs before that child's needs? The fact was, that yes, the case was getting to me….and I felt I couldn't be objective. So I asked Garret to put Bug on the case _before_ I had ever thought about taking vacation. So listen up, Farm Boy. You'd be working with Bug anyway. Despite what you think, I know the world does not revolve around me. However, my world does revolve around my cases. And I knew I didn't need to be on this one."

The tone of her voice now scared Woody. It had gone from loudly angry to cold, quiet, and furious. But that didn't deter Woody for giving her one more final stab. "Maybe you don't need to be on any case."

"Woody. Drop it," a voice said. Bug had heard their voices through the closed door and had gone to investigate the argument. He had come in on the tail-end of Jordan's slapping Woody and had listened until Woody's last comment and felt he had to intervene.

"This is none of your business, Bug."

"I'm making it my business. Jordan's my friend and colleague. And you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. You're done here, Woody. You've got your autopsy reports. Leave."

"But I'm not though…"

"Yes, you are," Bug replied with such a note of finality in his voice that Jordan even wondered at the man's sudden embracement of authority. "Now go."

Woody threw Jordan one more glance that plainly told her it wasn't over. "I just need to know you won't bail on me again when we have a tough case together."

"Woody. Leave. Now." Bug ordered one more time and held the door open for the detective to walk through. Woody turned to leave, grabbing the autopsy reports off the corner of Jordan's desk. With a quick look to Bug on the way out, he stormed down the hall to the elevators.

Inside the office, Jordan lifted a shaking hand to smooth back her hair. "I can't believe it….I slapped Woody, Bug."

"Well, it's not like he didn't ask for it…"

She laughed mirthlessly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence…." But her voice cracked and the chuckle disappeared on a sob.

"Are you going to be okay?" Bug asked, closing the door and walking over to Jordan to run a sympathetic hand down her arm.

"Yeah…I'll be fine. Just...give me a minute or two, okay?"

Bug nodded. "I will…Garret said you wanted to be kept in the loop on Baby Doe. When you're ready, I have the reports. I'll be in trace with Nigel."

"Okay…and thanks, Bug." Jordan flashed him a small smile

Bug shot her an understanding smile back. "No problem."

* * *

For three weeks, Garret had made sure they didn't catch a case together. Not one. So there was no excuse for Woody to hang out at the morgue in order to speak to her.

But that didn't stop him from wondering at her reaction to him. He knew he had goaded her into an argument. He had done that before to her. And she had done it to him. But she had never struck him. His hand involuntarily raised itself to his cheek where he swore he could still feel the heat from her hand. No matter how badly they fought, she had never gotten physical with him.

He must have touched a nerve somewhere…but where, he didn't know. In the past three weeks, what few opportunities he had to ask her any particulars about the Baby Doe case as the responding ME had only brought icy stares and no response. Bug had filled in any gaps.

That wasn't what Woody wanted. There was something about that case that had gotten next to Jordan in a way that no other case they had worked on together ever had. And he had to know why. He just had to. But not working any cases together made any type of communication with her nearly impossible.

At least until one Friday afternoon. Woody had been in the morgue discussing another case with Nigel before he left to go home. Finally satisfied with the criminalist's results, Woody had made for the elevators, only to see the doors beginning to slide shut. "Hold the door…" he called out.

And immediately wished he didn't. The doors slid back open and he found himself gazing back into her eyes. She moved all the way over to one side allowing him access into the car. Woody found himself looking back at her from the opposite wall…with about five feet of floor space between them. The air crackled.

"Going home?" he finally asked, hoping to break some of the tension.

"Yeah," was her monosyllabic response.

"Thank God it's Friday…" he countered.

Jordan only nodded, not looking at him.

"Rough week?" he asked, trying to get some kind of response out of her.

"Typical…."

At least it was more than one syllable. He took that as an opening. "I do need to talk to you about the Baby Doe case, Jordan. Just you're initial findings when you examined the baby at the hotel room….we're trying to find her parents."

"Bug has all that information." Her tone of voice was cold…devoid of emotion. And tired. Woody didn't think he had ever heard her sounding so tired in his life.

"I need you to look back over it and make sure there's nothing you left out…"

"I already have. Bug showed me the report yesterday. Everything is there, detective." She switched her pocketbook to the other shoulder and faced the elevator doors. Why did these old things have to be so slow? She was still four floors away from freedom.

"Woody, Jo. My name is Woody. You've called me that for four years. Now is no time to go all formal on me."

She didn't answer.

He figured he had nothing to loose. "Why'd you run from this case, Jordan? Why? Any other time, any case involving kids would have you hopping all over the place trying to find answers. Instead this one…you bail on me when I need you the most…Why?"

For a fleeting moment, Jordan thought about all the ways she could answer that question. She could be flippant and tell him she was long over due for a vacation. She could be stubborn and not answer at all. Or she could be bitchy and tell him it was none of his damn business – because it wasn't.

But she couldn't tell him the truth. Not now. Maybe not ever. She had handpicked the people she wanted to know and he didn't make the cut. Especially now with his attitude.

She couldn't tell him….because if she told him, she knew she would break down and cry…and he would feel sorry for her…and pity her. The last thing she wanted was his pity. She would want his arms to go around her and tell her that everything was going to be all right….that she would be okay.

And that he loved her as much as she loved him.

Finally the elevator dinged. They had reached the lobby. The doors began to slowly slide open. "Jordan?" she heard him say as she felt the stinging tears in her eyes. "Why?"

Damn him. He just wouldn't let it go, would he? "I'm sorry," she managed to mumble before practically running out of the elevator and the morgue doors, heading for her El Camino as fast as she could.

But not before Woody had caught sight of her tears and heard the crack in her voice. Then the knowledge of what he had done slowly sank in.

He had made Jordan Cavanaugh cry.

* * *

A few months ago that would have pleased him in a sordid kind of way. That he could reduce Jordan Marie Cavanaugh…the proverbial tower of strength….to tears. It would have made him happy that he had hurt her one more time…just like the wounded look in her eyes when she saw him with another woman felt like a victory for justice. His brand of justice, but justice nonetheless.

But somehow that victory was ringing hollow right now. Instead of feeling justified in his actions, he felt like a heel…that he had injured and bruised her emotionally in an area that was already in critical condition. There was hurt in her brown eyes that he didn't cause. He may have pushed it to the surface and then caused it to fester, but he wasn't the source of the underlying injury that had caused her to lose her professional veneer with this case.

Why? That question kept rising up. Why? Why did she turn the case over to Bug? He wasn't buying Garret's excuse—that women ME's often have trouble with cases involving an infant. It seemed to Woody that anyone in their right mind would have problems with a case involving a dead infant. That much was simple.

But why would this particular case make Jordan not only hand it over to another ME, but also head screaming for Denver? Why Denver? And why now?

And why did she break down in front of him in the elevator? The few times he had seen Jordan in tears had been terrifying for him. Jordan was one of the strongest people he knew. Seeing her vulnerable and crying had made him feel a confusing mix of fear and protectiveness all at the same time. She was one of those women who deserved not to have anymore tears in her life. She had already shed an ocean of them since her tenth birthday. However, in the past, Woody had always been able to pinpoint why she had cried. Her father. Her mother. Garret. Him.

This time he had no clue why she had broke down. He may not have caused the initial injury to her, but he sure as hell hurt it again. And he wasn't so sure he didn't mean to – just to get a rise out of her once more. Just to make sure he was still pulling her emotional strings.

Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Woody realized that somehow he had to make things right with her….maybe not everything, but at least some things.He didn't think their relationship would ever go back to what it was before…the warmth and affection…concern…all of those emotions that surrounded the dance they did around each other. And when Jordan had been ready to surrender to him…he had pushed her away. Pushed so hard and so fast that Jordan found comfort in another man's arms instead of Woody's. He still winced at the memories of JD kissing her…in front of him, no less.

So maybe they would never be lovers. That thought may be too much water underneath a bridge that they had burned too badly to repair or rebuild. But they should at least be friends.

Swallowing his pride, Woody walked into the florist down the street from the morgue. Slapping his credit card on the counter, he bought a dozen pink roses – her favorite—and began the long trek to repentance at her apartment.


	5. A Dozen Roses and the Truth

**Chapter Five**

**A Dozen Roses and the Truth**

"I'm coming…I'm coming…." Jordan called out to her closed door. Someone was ringing the doorbell off. She had called for Chinese delivery nearly an hour earlier, and then hopped in the shower. She had hoped the hot water and her favorite body wash would rinse away the tension of the day…as well as her last confrontation with Woody. "I said I'm coming!" she yelled at the door after grabbing a ten out of her pocketbook. "Give me a minute…" she swung the door open and then stepped back in surprise.

It was Woody. Holding pink roses.

And her Chinese delivery.

_Oh God … not again. Please don't tell me he followed me home to pick up where he left off in the elevator. My heart and my mind just don't think they could take it … _"Thanks," she said, gamely trying to take the food from him with one hand while closing the door with the other. It had worked with JD…

But it didn't with Woody. Jordan found his foot firmly wedged between the door and the jam. "I need to talk to you," he said, not giving her an inch…or her food.

"You've said all you needed to say," Jordan replied, still trying to close the door. She thought she had a Lean Cuisine in the freezer. If Woody wanted her Chinese that badly he could have it and she'd make do.

"No…Jordan….look…" he said, finally handing off the food to her. "I really need to….want to…talk to you…."

"I don't think it's a good idea right now. Besides, I just got out of the shower…and haven't eaten…and I don't know what else you need to say to me. Just…please leave."

"Not until I apologize…I need to apologize, Jordan. Let me in to do that and I'll leave you alone in peace. I promise."

"Scouts honor?" she asked, cracking open the door just a little more.

"Scouts honor," he solemnly replied, holding up three fingers in the Boy Scout pledge. "Besides…I'm not leaving until I do apologize, if I have to stay out here in the hall and talk to your door all night.

Groaning under her breath, Jordan let her door swing open the rest of the way, allowing him to come in. And just like in the elevator, she put a good five or six feet between them as he went to one end of her kitchen island and she took refuge at the other, putting the Chinese down on the counter and pulling her robe closer around her. "Okay," she breathed, straightening her spine and stuffing her hands in the pockets of her housecoat.

"These are for you," Woody said, suddenly remembering the roses in his hand. "I remembered that pink are your favorite…"

"Thanks…but you didn't have to…"

"I know…but it usually goes along with the territory when a man has made a complete ass out of himself…." He chuckled nervously and ran his hand through his hair. "Look…Jo… I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I pushed you so hard on the Baby Doe case. I mean, you have a right to back off from a case when you don't think you can be objective…and it's not really my place to tell you otherwise. It's just…just in the whole time I've known you, you've never backed down from a case…anything…or anybody. Not until now. And yeah, it made me mad because I was feeling like you bailed on me when I needed you most…but you know yourself better than anyone. And if you felt you couldn't be objective, then I have to live with that…and not let my feelings get in the way…."

Jordan listened to him silently…still holding the roses he had given her…carefully studying him. He had gone home to change before he came over to her apartment. Gone was the dress shirt and pants. In their place was a pair of snug fitting jeans and an equally snug blue sweater….the same blue as his eyes. _He looks good enough to eat…_she thought. And a year or so ago, that wouldn't have been such a bad idea.

But that was then and this was now. And at the present, he was far too perceptive and inquisitive. Jordan didn't feel like answering any more of his questions. She was tired and quite frankly, she wanted him to get done with his little "I'm sorry" speech and hit the road.

"Anyway…I really am sorry for anything I may have said or done to hurt you….I guess Dr. Macy was right. I didn't realize that as a woman you might be more sensitive about a case involving an infant."

Somehow, that rubbed her the wrong way. "What? I'm not a woman to you? I'm just some medical examiner that is supposed to shoot out information like a computer? That because….because of our past….my past….I'm not supposed to have feelings?"

"No, Jordan…I wasn't saying that at all…not at all…you've misunderstood me…"

"Are you saying that I was never really a woman to you? Was I ever? Did all you ever want out of me was a quick, cheap fuck? Because if that was all you ever wanted, I could have given you that and we could have dispensed with all the emotions and all the hurt I've carried around for months…"

"No! No…that's not what I meant. You're taking this all the wrong way…" Jordan noticed a thin sheen of sweat popping out on Woody's forehead.

But she was on a roll now and wasn't letting go. "Did you think that just because I don't appear very maternal or nurturing that I wouldn't have issues with this case?"

"No … Jordan…It's not…No…" Woody would be the first to admit he deserved this treatment, but he was sputtering now…trying to find an answer that wouldn't send her careening over her edge of anger. "You know….right now I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't ….so I'm not going to ...I am sorry, Jordan. Sorry if I hurt you. But I should have known better than to come here tonight and try to make things right. You're still impossible…" Woody pushed by her on his way to the door.

He was leaving. He was going to leave and he would never know. Jordan bit her lip. Suddenly that knowledge hurt as much as the information she had kept from him. "Stop."

Woody's hand hovered over the door knob. "Please stop," he heard her voice say and felt her small hand on his arm. "Please…don't leave. Not this way." He could have sworn he heard her voice break as he opened the door a few inches. "Please….sit down."

It was something in her voice that made him turn around. And then it was something in her eyes that made him decide to stay. He slammed the door shut and took a seat. "So….explain yourself," he said with a quiet note of firmness in his voice.

Jordan didn't say a word. She simply went over to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a small picture album and handing it silently to Woody.

_A picture album …what in the hell?_ He thought. Glancing at Jordan but not able to read her face, he flipped the book open and looked at the pages. There was an infant…Jordan…._She was a cute baby_, he thought, stealing another look at the woman now sitting beside him, anxiously scanning his face for some kind of reaction. _But I'm still not getting it…_

And then he did. The last picture was one of Jordan holding the baby. He raised puzzled eyes to her anxious ones…to read the answer there.

Jordan was a mother.

"When… " was all he managed to breathe out around the lump in his throat.

"About ten years ago. Her name is…was…Sophia. She was my daughter."

"How….Who…" Woody was having problems getting the words out as he flipped back through the book and looked at the pictures again as Jordan tried to explain.

"It was during my first year of residency. I went out with a guy who thought dinner and a movie should garner him more than just the typical good night kiss…."

"Jordan?" Woody didn't dare believe what he was about to hear.

"I knew him. We were….friends. Or so I thought. Until he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer…"

"Oh God. No…"

Jordan shook her head trying to disperse those memories. "I dealt with it. But what I didn't expect to deal with was the aftermath…I was pregnant. I went back and told him. He laughed at me…and then bailed. Left Boston. Left Massachusetts. I never saw or heard from him again. Not that I looked very hard. From the beginning I assumed responsibility."

"But…he…"

Jordan raised a hand to stop him. "I know…but I also knew what trouble that might stir up. So I swallowed my pride and went to Dad." She sighed deeply.

"If this is too hard, Jo…"

"No…you deserve to know…Anyway, Max was just Catholic enough to be furious I got pregnant out of wedlock and I was still Catholic enough that I couldn't abort. So I took some time off to go to Denver to have the baby. The University of Colorado at Denver had a thoracic residency program that would accept me and they didn't care if I was pregnant. I went out there to have Sophie with the idea that after she was born, I'd transfer back to Boston. So….one day I packed up my old Ford mustang and pointed her west…" Jordan let her voice trail off as she took another deep breath.

"What happened then, Jo?" Woody had recovered enough to ask a coherent question.

"Something wasn't right….something wasn't right with Sophie. I knew it from the first time I held her. She was such a sweet baby…she rarely cried, but when she did, she'd turn blue around the lips. I was going to be a heart doctor. I knew what that meant…" Jordan felt her eyes fill with tears and looked down to avoid Woody's eyes. She wanted him to understand…but she didn't want his pity. She was surprised to find his large hand had covered her two smaller ones that were wringing themselves together. A tear from her eye splashed on the back of his hand.

"Go on," Woody gently encouraged. All of his anger towards her was gone. Instead that confusing mix of fear and protectiveness found its way into his chest again.

"I knew something wasn't right….and I was correct. Sophie had a congenital heart condition…they… the doctors in Denver….did everything they could for her and they were fairly optimistic. I was more than willing to stay put in Denver until Sophie was completely well….but that wasn't going to happen. One morning she didn't wake me up for me to feed her…so I went into her room to nurse her…and she was…she was…gone. She had died in her sleep sometime during the night …she was just shy of three months old. I held her cold, little body and rocked it for an hour, praying for a miracle I knew wasn't going to happen. Then I called the hospital."

She took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. Woody tightened his hold on her hands. "Then…I went totally off the deep end. My residency supervisor called my dad, who came out to get me and Sophie. I came back to Boston…buried my daughter…and went right back to work here. That became my lifeline until I got kicked out of the thoracic program at Boston. Everything just kind of piled up on me then…between losing my residency and Sophie….well…the next step was me trying to commit suicide…whether by accident or by intent, I'm still not sure…."

"Jordan…you don't have to go on if you don't want to…honest….sweetheart…"

"No…you have to understand…I want you to….Garret offered me a job at the morgue…he helped me pick up the pieces of my life after everything….Bug was at the morgue then, so he knew, too….about the suicide attempt…and Sophie…and me…

"I may not have been a whole lot in my life, Woody, but one thing I wanted to do was have Sophie and be her mother. And that was ripped from me. So now you know why I had such a problem with this case….and why homicide calls that involve children bother me so much. I've tried…through the years….to put it behind me. But I just can't do it. I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner…but…." Her tears made her stop again. Jordan bit her lip and looked away.

And truthfully, she didn't need to go on. Woody sighed and gently rubbed her hand that he was still holding. He knew better than anyone else why she hadn't told him before now. About the time she had gotten to the point where she could trust him with her feelings and emotions, he pushed her away.

She pulled her hand out of his suddenly and stood up, pulling the tie on her robe tighter and walking across the room, away from him. "So now you know…" she said in a strained voice.

Still somewhat dumbfounded, Woody fumbled for an answer. Of all the preconceived ideas he had about her reactions to Baby Doe, what she had just told him fit nowhere in his puzzle. He realized, futilely, that he had no clue how to respond to her. So he said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm sorry, Jordan….so sorry…." Whether he meant this apology to atone for his actions of the past several weeks, or to try to somehow ease the pain of her past, he wasn't sure.

More than likely both. _This is yet another reason she has difficulties with relationships,_ he thought as he vainly tried to think of something else to say. _Everyone has left her...nearly everyone she has loved is gone. Her mother. Her father. Sophie._

_Me._

_Despite the fact she begged me to stay and not leave her…I did anyway._ Woody shook his head at his own callousness. He desperately tried to think of something…anything to say to her, but realized he had no idea how to reach her again. She was staring out the window, seeing visions of things that weren't there…her daughter would be about nine now…third grade….

"I am so sorry, Jordan…" Woody finally went over and gently cupped her shoulders with his hands. He wanted so much to turn her around and pull her into his arms….just hold her until all the bitterness of the past left her for a while. But he couldn't do that. She wasn't his. Not anymore. He slid his hands down her arms to gently intertwine their fingers. "I'm so sorry…for Sophie….for you…"

"It was a long time ago, Woody…" Jordan shook her head again, dispersing the what if's of the past.

"Yeah, but you don't get over that kind of loss…"

"I know…you just rebuild your world around it…"

"And I'm so sorry for the way I acted…about the case… and Baby Doe…"

"You had no way of knowing then…"

"But I do now. And I won't ask you to answer anymore homicide calls that involve infants…"

"Thanks…"

Woody felt her nod beneath his chin. "Can I do anything else tonight, Jordan…get you anything?"

He felt her sigh deeply and lean against him for a split second. Then her spine stiffened again. "No…you've done enough…buying the Chinese…I…I… really think you should go now. It's getting late."

"Are you sure?"

Nodding again, she moved away from him, pulling their fingers apart. Silently she walked him to the door. "Are you sure you're going to be okay by yourself tonight, Jordan?" he asked before he opened the door to let himself out.

Jordan nodded again, desperately trying to get her emotions under control, but tears were still slipping down her cheeks. "I can stay a while longer if you need me to, Jo," Woody softly said, gently wiping some of the wetness off her face with his index finger.

"Why? It won't do any good. You've done enough tonight….you know everything now…just…please….leave. I don't want your pity anymore than you wanted mine…"

_Ouch…_ Woody opened the door but hesitated before he left. "If you need me…"

"I'll be fine, Farm Boy. Go get a good night's sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that she softly shut her big, red door.

Woody stared at it for a few seconds before taking the elevator to the lobby of her building. _So that's what it felt like when I told her I didn't want her pity. Damn – that hurt._


	6. I'm Sorry

**Chapter Six**

**I'm Sorry**

"Anything on Baby Doe's body that would give us any idea about who her parents were or where they came from?" Woody asked Bug. He had come into the morgue early the morning after Jordan's revelation about Sophie. The truth was, he hadn't been able to sleep any the night before. Images of a pregnant Jordan, Jordan with the baby, and then a grieving Jordan kept running through his mind and his dreams. Those, coupled with the fact that he had done nothing to comfort her the night before because she no longer felt at ease around him, made for very little sleep. Finally at five, Woody gave up the fight, showered, and came into his office. He had waited until he knew the morgue had opened and sought Bug out. The detective was ready to put the Baby Doe case behind him as soon as he could…for as much as it was a difficult case, it also had put yet another kink in his relationship – whatever that was – with Jordan.

"I can tell you the child was breast fed, that the blanket she was wrapped in came from JC Penneys…"

"Local or where?"

"That I can't tell you. It was a blanket all of the stores carried from 1998 until 2003…"

"So it could have been bought anywhere…."

"In the continental United States," Bug finished.

"Damn…." Woody sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair. He had showered, but hadn't taken the time to shave or comb his hair. The urgency of his mission had taken precedence over his looks.

Until now. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of her…her long chestnut hair spilling down her back as she went into her office, took off her coat, and shut her door….just like she did every day of the week. The urgency of his mission was immediately forgotten. _How does she go on with her life after…_Woody wondered. He couldn't imagine how she continued to function at her job after everything she went through. Or maybe it was because of that. Maybe it was because of Sophie's death, as well as her mother's, that Jordan felt she had to bring justice for every family and body that crossed her desk.

But still…he had so many unanswered questions. Woody turned his attention back to Bug when he remembered what Jordan had said the other night…. _Bug was at the morgue then, so he knew, too … about the suicide attempt…and Sophie…and me…_

"Bug, why didn't you tell me the reason that Jordan asked Garret to give you the Baby Doe case?"

"I thought Garret told you she was taking vacation…" Bug hedged, not knowing exactly how much Woody knew.

"No… not that. The _real_ reason…" Woody trailed off, his eyes carrying volumes of meaning that Bug quickly interpreted.

"You know then?" Bug asked quietly.

"I do…she told me last night at her apartment. Why didn't someone tell me about why Jordan broke down after this case?"

"Would it have made a difference in the way you treated her?"

"Yeah…it would."

Bug sighed and turned his attention back to the tests he was running on Baby Doe's effects…the tiny sleeper, the blanket, the socks…"It wasn't my place to tell you. You know how private of a person Jordan is…I figured if she wanted you to know she would tell you herself. I'm kind of surprised she told you at all, given how things are between you two and …"

"And the fact that I've acted like a real bastard the last six months or so." Woody smiled grimly at his confession.

"That, too."

Woody sighed and dropped down into a chair beside Bug. "I kind of pushed the issue …and she told me…." Okay, so it wasn't the whole truth, but Woody figured if he told Bug that he had reduced Jordan to tears in the elevator, the man would hurt him. The morgue staff had circled their wagons around Jordan as far as the detective was concerned. She was off limits to him. "But what did the Baby Doe case do that would prompt her to go back to Denver….you'd think with a city that held so many bad memories for her, she'd avoid the place like the plague."

"Baby Doe's death…and the fact that we really can't explain it…made Jordan rethink Sophie's death. She wanted to go back and review her daughter's medical files…see if there wasn't anything else she or the other doctors could have done. Jordan had to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had truly done all she could have for her daughter."

"It's as simple as that?"

Bug nodded, and then added quietly, "Closure, Woody. She needed closure. Jordan was afraid that if another case involving a baby came up, she'd go off the deep end again. She figured if she could reassure herself one more time…"

"She could really put it behind her."

"As much as one could under these circumstances," Bug finished.

Woody watched her through the widow of her office from Bug's desk for a few minutes. She sat down and turned on her computer, turning to the stack of files on her desk. She didn't put on her scrubs, which meant she was probably tied to her desk with paperwork for a while. He studied her carefully, before getting up to go over to her office. "I'll be back in a minute, Bug…"

"Are you sure you're doing the best thing?" Bug called after Woody as he saw the detective heading for Jordan's office.

_I don't know. I honestly don't know…much of anything anymore,_ Woody answered in his own head. _The woman I thought I knew so well…_He stopped outside her door, looking her over one more time before going in. The dark circles hugging her eyes told him that she hadn't slept anymore than he had the night before. That old, familiar feeling of fear and protectiveness found itself in his throat again, even though Woody knew he was no in way responsible for this particular past hurt. But he had made her rehash her feelings and emotions…feelings and emotions she probably had long-since tapped down and dealt with. He had forced her to resurrect the memory of a baby and her lost motherhood. And if nothing else, he could apologize for that. Tentatively he knocked at her door.

"It's open," Jordan called out, never taking her eyes off her computer screen.

"Morning…" he stood awkwardly in the doorway, shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

"Hi…what brings you to this neck of the woods?" she asked, still not taking her eyes off her screen.

He came the rest of the way in her office and shut the door. "I just wanted to tell you one more time how sorry I was about last night…I didn't mean to make you cry…or dig up old memories you didn't want to deal with again…it's just that you've never bailed on me with a case before and I…"

"If you're looking for absolution, Woody, you've come to the wrong place. The memories are mine and I chose to bring them back up. I let Baby Doe prod me into dealing with Sophie again. In someway, probably every dead baby I will work on from now until I retire will make me do that." Her voice carried the cool, professionalism that had begun to mark their relationship.

Woody winced at her tone. He had hoped that after last night the emotional walls they had built between the two of them might topple a little…that the boundaries he had made her put up could be torn down just a tad…maybe he had dreamed of too much too fast. But he was willing to push the issue and wouldn't leave until he could see if she was willing to take a little of what he was trying to give her. All she could do was say no and push him back out of her life.

And things could go back to the way they were – however much he didn't want them to.

So he sat down on the couch in front of her. "I just wanted to apologize one more time. I am sorry, Jordan…I just wish I would have known…it would have made the issues a little clearer for me…"

Sighing, Jordan turned to face him, getting up from her desk to prop herself in front of it. "I know. That's why I told you … I just felt I needed to explain myself to you before you got anymore wrong ideas about me than you already had." She tried to grin ruefully at him…to disperse the somber atmosphere that was weighing down both of them. But his next question made that impossible.

"Is that why you're so relationship-shy?" Woody asked. The sudden impulsiveness of his question even startled him.

And caught Jordan completely off guard. Her mouth opened slightly in disbelief. "Yeah….probably," she stammered, lowering her head and avoiding his all-too-knowing blue eyes. Eyes that still made her weak in the knees. "I mean…if the relationship…our relationship … if you could ever have called it that … had progressed … then the next step is usually…."

"First comes love, then comes marriage," Woody said softly.

"And then comes Woody with a baby carriage," she finished. "Quickly followed by all of Jordan's fears and paranoia…" She smiled grimly.

Woody locked eyes with her and silently contemplated what she had just revealed to him. She had loved him…maybe for months…maybe even longer…but her fears of what that emotion could do to her had kept her silent until… "If I had never been shot…would you ever have told me that you loved me?" he asked, keeping his eyes on hers.

Jordan's surprised look turned to shock when she saw Woody had tears in his eyes. "Oh, Woods…" she said, coming to sit beside him on the couch, taking his hands in hers. "Yes. I tried to tell you the night after you gave me that friendship ring…when you came back to my office the night of my birthday…but you didn't let me get a word in edgewise and your mind seemed to be pretty made up. So I figured it was for the best…then, when I nearly lost you … all I could think about was how awful my life would be without you in it….and that I was willing to risk everything if we could be together. But my timing sucked…and I didn't realize you had already moved on…I'm sorry, Woody. Sorry that everything worked out this way … that I even said anything at all … especially since you had already put us behind you and moved on … I'm sorry…just so sorry for everything…not telling you sooner … then telling you the way I did….when I did…especially after you said we could only be friends…I really dick things up with people I care about. All I can say is I'm sorry, Woody. And I really mean it. I'm sorry…" Jordan knew she was rambling to the point she wasn't even sure she made sense…it was just that everything she had about him in her heart…that she had been carrying around for months…finally came out. She looked down at their hands, still intertwined and was surprised to find that she was holding on to his hands too tightly for him to pull away. "Sorry…" she said, releasing his fingers suddenly.

Only to feel him tighten his hands back around hers. "Me, too. Sorry that you felt you couldn't tell me everything, but I guess me being a hard ass made it sort of impossible for you to do. I didn't let you finish saying what you were wanting to tell me that night when I came back to your office after I gave you that damn ring." Woody reached out and gently lifted her chin with one hand so she was looking at him in the eyes and gave her rueful grin. "I guess we're both pretty good at dicking up relationships."

He heard her sigh and echoed his own in response. Gently he released her chin and tugged her to sit back with him on the couch, gently looping one arm around her shoulders. "So where do we go from here, Jo?" he asked, positioning her as close to his side as she would let him…which to his surprise was pretty close.

"Do you think we can at least be friends again? This professional-crap-only with you is getting on my last nerve…you're my best friend, Woody…"

She felt rather than heard his quiet chuckle and let him pull her in even closer for a hug. "Yeah…friends it is. I don't know anyone that has gone to the wall for me like you have…"

"And you've been more than patient with me…"

_That's my in…_he fleetingly thought before clearing his throat and tugging her even more snugly up against him. "You're always patient with someone you love…" he whispered in her ear before feeling her move away slightly to look him in the eyes.

Once again, he held her gaze and seeing surprise but no resistance, slowly lowered his lips to hers. Again. And again…until he felt Jordan kissing him back.


	7. Starting Over

**Chapter Seven**

**Starting Over**

Woody wasn't sure how long it was…but at some point it surfaced to his conscience that she was now beneath him on the couch in her office, in clear view of anyone who just happened to be walking down the hall. He pulled back and tried to ignore her whimper of protest. "We can't…not here…not now…" Woody whispered gently. "Too many people and not enough privacy…" He was also trying to disregard her dusky eyes and swollen lips. It wasn't working very well.

"Hmmm? Oh…yeah…" Jordan said, pushing herself up and straightening her clothes, at the same time watching Woody re-button his shirt. The look on his face told her he didn't remember when she had unfastened it. They both had been lost in the moment.

He took her hands and pulled her off the couch, leading her over to the door. "I've got to get back to the office…"

Jordan nodded. "I know…Nigel's expecting me in trace in …" she glanced at her watch. How long had they been like… "fifteen minutes….I gotta go change…"

"Wait…" Woody said, stopping her from opening the door by framing her face with his hands so she looked him in the eyes. "No dance this time, right? From now on, it's real and honest…and true…"

Jordan nodded.

"You mean it." It wasn't a question.

"I do…" she said, turning her head to give the palm of one of his hands a quick kiss. "But I need to go or Nige's going to be in here looking for me."

Woody grinned and released her. Nigel Townsend in Jordan's office right now was the last thing he wanted. The man was far too perceptive and would quickly understand what was going on…and Woody wanted to keep the last several minutes and their revelations to himself for a while longer. "I'll see you later…"

"I'm counting on it," she said, suddenly giving him one of her rare, genuine smiles. And kissed him on the way out the door. In front of everyone in the hall. That included Nigel and Bug. And Garret.

So much for keeping secrets.

* * *

And it became the worst kept secret in the history of the morgue and the Boston PD. The elusive medical examiner and the "go-get'em" detective from Keuwanne with the bad attitude finally had connected. Woody took more than his fair share of good-natured ribbing and Jordan endured the knowing grins of Nigel and Garret until she thought she'd explode the next time either one opened their mouths.

But one day, while working with him on an autopsy, it was Bug that surprised her the most. He didn't say a word about Woody and what was going on. He simply asked, "Are you happy, Jordan?"

The question shook her. Was she? Was she finally at a happy place in her life?

She thought back over the last several months. It hadn't been a time completely free of trouble. She and Woody still argued over cases…but the feelings they had for each other anchored them together. She couldn't imagine her life without him now…furthermore, she didn't want to. Like she had promised Woody, the dance was over…this time it was a relationship…real…honest…true.

To the extent they had agreed not to take the final step of consummating what they had together until they both were sure they were ready…that they both had worked through all the issues they had with each other and some of the circumstances surrounding their lives. So while she had to endure the "knowing" grins of some of her co-workers…the fact was…there was nothing to "know" at all. At least not yet.

Jordan also admitted it was getting harder and harder to tell Woody goodnight and send him home…it was becoming more difficult to resist the dusky look in his blue eyes when he pulled back from kissing her. And it was impossible to ignore the way her body responded to even his lightest touch. She was the most content when they were together. At peace. Finally.

But was she happy?

Raising her face shield to look at her friend…a friend that had known one of biggest secrets in her life and had kept it…then defended her when he felt like she needed it the most…. "Yeah … I am, Bug. I am happy…with Woody and where we're heading."

Bug smiled at her. "Good, Jordan. I'm glad…if anyone deserves some happiness, it's you…"

"Thanks…mind if I take off a little early today?"

"Plans?"

"Sort of…"

"Go for it, Jordan. I'll cover for you with Garret."

She didn't need Bug to tell her twice. She quickly changed out of her scrubs and headed towards her El Camino, punching in one on the speed dial of her cell phone while she pulled out of morgue parking. "Hoyt," a familiar voice said over the receiver.

"Hey, Farm Boy….how's you're day?"

Woody smiled, sitting back in his desk chair, propping his feet on his desk. "Slow…how's yours?"

"Same ol', same ol'….a little slicing, a little dicing…"

Woody grimaced. That always sounded like an ad for kitchen knives to him…he had learned quickly after working with Jordan for a while that ME's can have a warped sense of humor. It was one of their coping mechanisms. "So are you still slicing?"

"No…actually, I snuck out early and left Bug to finish my autopsy."

"Jordan Cavanaugh snuck out of work early….in the middle of an autopsy….the world as we know it is coming to an end…"

She laughed. It was a good sound. As a matter of fact, she had laughed more in the last several months than she had in the last several years. "Actually, no….but I was wondering…since your day was slow, too….any chance maybe you could knock off early…?"

"I'll see what I can do…" He began to shut down his computer and throw a few things in his briefcase. "So what did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking about a nice, quiet evening…alone with you…"

"Where at? Name the place and I'll be there…"

"Your apartment."

"A little Chinese delivery and a movie?"

"Something like that."

Woody paused. _Something like that?_ Clearing his throat and trying to keep his voice normal, he asked, "Does that mean…I may need to…um…stop for supplies on the way home?"

Jordan laughed again…this time sounding silkily seductive to his ears. "Yeah….I think that would be a good idea."

He paused again. "Are you sure, Jordan? We don't have to rush anything…"

"I'm sure, Woody. Very sure…I realized something today…Bug asked me if I was happy…and I realized that for the first time in my adult life, I am. And a large part of that I owe to you…I love you, Farm Boy…."

"I'll be home in a half an hour."

* * *

Woody lazily stretched and welcomed the warm weight of her naked body snuggled against him. True to his word, the evening before had started with Chinese delivery…and a good bottle of wine. And ended with her in his arms. A smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He couldn't imagine a more satisfying way to end his day…or hers…and hoped that Jordan was now aware of the fact that he would no longer let her sleep alone again.

He had always imagined there might be some hesitation on her part…that for some reason when it came right down to it, giving herself to a man physically with her body as well as emotionally with her heart, might cause Jordan some problems. But evidently not. He knew he was a demanding lover…he had been told so before….but Jordan had met him kiss for kiss and touch for touch last night. The memory of it sent his blood pooling southward. He gently cupped her breast in response to his body's reaction, allowing his thumb to trace slow circles around her nipple.

He was rewarded with a moan and her moving even closer to him. "Good morning, sleepy head," he whispered.

"Morning," she replied, moving over to kiss him. "And don't stop on my account," she continued as she shifted her weight over him.

"Hmmmm. I won't." Her movement allowed him to do the same thing to her other breast at the same time…meanwhile her lips had slipped down to his neck, and her hands had trailed down a bit further. She was rewarded with his low moan this time. "Jordan…" he hissed.

"What?"

"Do you know what you're doing to me?"

"I hope so…."

"As long as you know…"

"Know what?"

"That you're responsible for my actions…" he teased and flipped her over so that she was beneath him now and he could look her in the eyes.

"Oh, I am?" she said back, only half-jokingly as he trailed a line of kisses down her neck this time…across her chest…to his objective, lightly kissing it before taking it in his mouth and letting his hand trail down further this time. She felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. "Oh…."

Woody chuckled, continuing to touch and guide her until she was arching against him…before he reached in his nightstand. Thank God for drugstores that were open 24-hours. He had a feeling they were going to keep the one across the street in business for the next … well, a long time. A very long time. At least if he had anything to do with it.

* * *

They didn't find out who Baby Doe's mother was until the next year. Woody was in Jordan's office, propped on the side of her desk, looking over her shoulder at some tox screens that were coming in on their latest victim. Lily came to the door of Jordan's office and lightly tapped. "There's someone to see you two in the conference room," she told them. "She claims she's the mother of the Baby Doe that was in the Green Hotel…"

Woody looked at Jordan, trying to judge her response…to make sure she was going to be okay. He still worried about her and babies, even though Jordan seemed less bothered by them now. He knew it wasn't because she had stopped grieving Sophie…it was because now she had someone to help shoulder her grief…him.

But he was still concerned. "Want to me to handle it?" he asked as she got up from her desk.

"No…I'd like to meet the woman…there's a lot of unanswered questions there. Why has it taken so long for her to come forward…why did she abandon her baby? I want to know, Woody. I need to. We both do."

He nodded and walked with her to the conference room. Woody wasn't sure what either of them expected, but it surely wasn't the woman waiting for them by the window…long, dark hair flowing down her back…tiny…her shoulders sagging with sadness and her young face already lined with years of worry and care. "You have my Elisea?" she asked in halting English.

It took some time, but through an interpreter Jordan and Woody found out that the woman's husband had died while she was pregnant with the baby. She had given birth and afterwards had little money. She lost her apartment and had been forced to find cheaper lodgings at the Green Hotel. She and little Elisea were barely making it when one morning, the baby simply didn't wake up. The woman, Rosa, had panicked and fled, thinking she had done something wrong and would be blamed.

"She didn't want to leave the baby, but felt she had no choice," the interpreter said. "She left and found a job….saved some money. She's wondering if per chance you still had her daughter's body…her remains…so that she could give Elisea a Christian burial.

Jordan cast Woody a sideways glance before answering. "We…Woody and I….buried her a couple of months after she was found. Neither one of us wanted the baby to be cremated or buried in a pauper's grave…so we buried her. Tell Rosa Elisea did have a Christian burial…my friend, Paul, who is a priest, presided over the funeral. Nearly everyone at the morgue and the Boston PD attended….tell her that her daughter was loved to the very end."

The interpreter relayed the message to Rosa, who wanted to know where her daughter was. "We can take her there, Jordan said, reaching for Woody's hand. "if she wants to go…"

Fifteen minutes later found the four people at a familiar cemetery. Jordan found her mother's grave and then walked two rows up. There were two tiny head stones….one for Sophia Cavanaugh and another simply labeled Baby Doe. "Now that we know who she is, we can have this changed," Jordan told Rosa through the interpreter. The mother nodded and hugged both Jordan and Woody before turning with the interpreter to leave. She still looked tired, but some of the worry around her eyes was gone. Woody watched Jordan…as Jordan watched the mother turn to leave. "Are you okay?" he asked, still concerned about her.

Jordan turned to him and smiled…a genuine smile. "I am, Woody. I'm okay. I still miss my daughter…but life is good. I have my friends, who are like family…and I have you…" She reached up and gave him a quick kiss.

"And in a few months, we'll have our own family," Woody said, placing a gentle hand on Jordan's expanding tummy. "Still excited?"

"Let's see….nights without sleep, two a.m. feedings…countless dirty diapers…teething…potty training…oh, very excited, Detective Hoyt…" She smiled at him again.

"Good," Woody replied, placing his arm around her to lead her back to their car. He knew the baby wouldn't take Sophia's place in Jordan's memory. He didn't intend for it to even try. Woody wanted their baby to be a new beginning for both of them…a new family…in a new house…A time for both of them to start over, this time with no secrets.


End file.
